


In which Yamamoto stakes his own claim

by pekori



Series: Anonymous Kink Meme Fills (Reborn!) [6]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Blood, M/M, No Smut, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pekori/pseuds/pekori
Summary: Yamamoto never fails to be distracted by Gokudera, even when his life is at stake.
Relationships: Gokudera Hayato/Yamamoto Takeshi
Series: Anonymous Kink Meme Fills (Reborn!) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788805
Kudos: 21





	In which Yamamoto stakes his own claim

**Author's Note:**

> **Original prompt:** Yamamoto, being the sociopath he is, marks his lover using Shigure Kintoki.
> 
> (Thats to the nonny who wrote the [cigarette burns](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797290) fic for the idea!)

Sometimes, those burns still itched a little, even though pink scars had healed over them years and years ago. He knew they were phantom itches, but he'd still scratch them as if they were real, absently and usually without realizing. Now was one of those times, but it was really pretty inconvenient, because he was in the middle of sparring and needed to stay focused.

Gokudera easily saw through the weak point he left as his hand crawled up to his chest with a mind of its own, leaving him wide open for that fire cracker pop of the blanks Gokudera was throwing. The hem of Yamamoto's kimono was blasted with a spray of bright red, and he started laughing.

"You're off your game today," Gokudera said, bent over and panting a little. Yamamoto went to him and slumped down beside him, wiping at the paint.

"Ah, yeah, I guess so, hahaha."

"We can't afford to be lax right now. With all the trouble heading our way, and with Tenth's upcoming conference, we have to be ready."

"I know, I know."

"So what's wrong?"

"I guess I'm just a little distracted, hahaha."

Gokudera sighed, and reached an arm down to help Yamamoto to his feet. Yamamoto immediately reached for his weapon, which quickly shifted from bamboo to blade, and flicked it just so to create a tiny tear in the front of Gokudera's shirt, a little south of his shoulder. "Idiot," Gokudera cursed and jumped back, reaching for his chest. "This is fucking practice, you know."

"I know," Yamamoto said, and charged forward, timing each zig and zag until he had Gokudera pinned in a far corner of the room.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Gokudera's eyes searched Yamamoto's desperately, looking for some sign of possession, or worse, as if that were the only explanation for this behavior.

Instead of responding, Yamamoto smirked and brought the blade to the other side of Gokudera's chest. He ran it slowly over the cloth of his shirt, not cutting just yet, as if deciding exactly the right spot. Gokudera was frozen in place, his breathing shallow and as nervous as his voice had sounded. He didn't protest and scarcely even moved, even as Yamamoto's free hand made to turn him around. Finally, when faced with Gokudera's back, he seemed to have found the place he was looking for.

The precision and speed of his slices left Gokudera wondering if anything had happened at all. Then came the stinging and the burning and the feel of fresh blood streaming down his back and Gokudera cried out more in panic than fear, but with a little of something else, too.

"I just can't help but get distracted when it's you I'm sparring with," Yamamoto breathed, heavily, and directly over Gokudera's ear. "All that sweat and that look on your face—just like the one you make right before you come."

Gokudera was panting, his breath still shaky but noticeably relieved. "Pervert," he laughed, and tried to sneak a glance at Yamamoto over his shoulder.

"But I'm _your_ pervert." Easing back a little, Yamamoto gave Gokudera just enough room to turn so that he could close the gap between them, harsh mouth meeting hungry lips as hands fumbled over belts and zippers.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on khrkinkmeme at LiveJournal.com. Lightly edited for formatting, grammar, and/or clarity.


End file.
